Sunday, 9 July 2017

Are you FUNNY?

This is my feet at the Grandie boy's TaeKwondo grading. He told me, 'No pictures on the blog please Ma'. Adolescence has begun.

Way way back in 2001, when I took off for what was gonna be a little year long junket to the UK, I had a bit of a bucket list sort of mapped out in my head. There were places I wanted to go and stuff I wanted to see and lots of stuff I wanted to do.

I must have been more sure of myself back then, yeh I lament the loss of that girl, cos on my list was to have a go at some stand up comedy.

It never happened, not because there was no opportunity, it didn't happen cos I chickened out and I reckon I chickened out cos, well cos I just can't tell a joke, never have been able to, I get the punch line all buggered up and if the gag is really funny, then I am already pissing myself laughing and the tag line is swallowed by giggles and nose snorting. People might end up laughing, but at me not the material, and not in a good way, oh dear.

Perhaps because of this I like comedians who tell funny stories, I like the clever segues and the backward links and ties. Kitty Flanagan does a stand up routine which leaves me rolling about. Her combo of physical and story telling appeals to me.

So I reckon fairly certainly I can say I am never gonna do any stand up. Bugger and Whew in equal measure.

My Grandie is similarly lacking in confidence to try stuff that could lead to a dose of adolescent ridicule, and in a bid to encourage him without just saying shit like, 'Don't be a girl.' ( Why is that not considered high praise I wonder? or 'Harden up with some cement' or whatever that shit expression is, I tell him a little yarn of my early womanhood. He does love it, or at least he says he does, when I tell him a story.

I told him that when I was about 29 or so - yeh he does a little eye roll cos, well that's fucking ancient to a kid huh? I wanted to have a go at THEATRE SPORTS - a series of improvised story telling games, but I lacked courage, like the Lion in the old Wizard. Was it the Lion? Bugger see I am no longer either as fleet of foot or brain as the Lion. Oh well.

Anyway I told him I used to go to the workshops and sit in a corner. I remember being appallingly shy and intimidated. I told him I watched until I got a handle on the games and I watched until I realised that the only way I was gonna learn how to do this, was to have a go, and that yes when I started I was shit and there were many shit moments even long after I had become more comfortable with it, and then I told him that on my first big night on stage in front of paying guests, I was the JUDGE, dispensing scores - not a far cry from marking school performances really. I got all dressed up for the occasion, in flash 80's style and I entered the space waving like a queen, and as soon as I sat down in my place, the fucking zipper on my blue taffeta, tight as a fishes arse hole dress, the fucking zipper burst open and the only thing keeping my dignity remotely intact was a tiny hook and eye at the top. Faaaaarrrrk.

I told him I didn't move at interval when there was typically loads of frivolity, and when the gig was done, I waited til the theatre was all but empty and then slunk off looking for my jeans. Oh Well.

But the point of my story was that even though I buggered up plenty of times after that, that's the time I remember and apart from my embarrassment, it wasn't all that bad, and I am very glad that I grew a pair and played on. And then his mum and I told him of lots of fun times playing the fool over the next few years.

He did his grading for Tae Kwondo a couple of weeks ago and to his consternation I admit to a couple of woops woops, so if he ever does decide to to something on a big stage he's just gonna have to suck it up and wave to Ma being a dick. No rehearsal needed for that.